Narcissus
by Tollpatsch
Summary: "I am a woman of indulgence. And wild fantasies. Don't forget the fantasies," Terumi warned him seriously. Ryouta nodded. It was hard to take her seriously. KISEXOC
1. I need counselling

**Narcissus**

_by Tollpatsch_

* * *

_SPLAT!_

She winced. "That's nasty."

Mikazuki Terumi had a sudden epiphany when a pigeon did a kamikaze dive into the head of a speeding train. The bloodied grey mass of feathers bounced off the metal and landed an uncomfortable distance near her shiny school loafers.

Apparently, no one saw the spectacle-no, the _Tragedy_ happen except for her. And she couldn't _un-see_ what she just saw, nor erase the blasted thing from her memory like she could do with movie clips on a computer.

She grimaced at the sight. Gross.

Cautiously stepping over the once…lively creature, she alighted the (murderous) train quickly, as the screams and gasps of the poor people (her fellow school mates, judging by their sad grey uniforms) behind her took notice of the grotesque tragedy lying on the platform.

So that was how birds died. She'd always wondered.

* * *

**One: I need counselling**

Terumi had many opinions on many things around her and the mysteries of the world. She was concerned with a number of them; actually (like how she rocked the homeless look in the mornings), the number one thing occupying her mind currently was the perpetual mass of grey blazers, grey pants and grey skirts. It was everywhere, and she could imagine that if _sadness_ were royally presented with a certain colour it would be that disgusting shade of—

Whoops getting off track there.

(_still can't understand how some people look good in the rags, but apparently being outrageously attractive helps_)

She saw her reflection through some glass windows as she passed by. And she did not like what she saw.

FREEZE, _SISTA_.

Oh _god_.

Her skirt wasn't buttoned up.

Like, the button didn't go through the little hole it was meant to go through and it hung there on the fabric, a little bit lonely.

Mr Button was never meant to be lonely. She needed to find him a quick fix to this dysfunctional marriage…

_Need to do it up. NOW._

…so where was the call girl when she needed her?

Terumi slapped herself back to reality-an awkward jerking of her arm-she _really_ needed to tame her wild imagination, which surfaced at the _most inappropriate _of times.

_I still need to save whatever's left of my dignity because I'm wearing hot pink undies today. _

_Bad choice, you stupid girl!_ Ah, the voice of reason. Welcome back after a sudden disappearance.

_But-but they're my favourite pink panties. _The voice of idiocy. Now, when you start arguing with yourself, you've reached the point of no return no matter what the psychologist says.

Pausing in front of her classroom door, she reached behind her where that lonely button sat—

The door slid open. She stopped breathing.

_Oh shit._

Wide green eyes met the powerful stare of _The Teacher_.

"Mikazuki," he frowned. He frowned upon her tiny _existence._ That evil man.

"I'm…terribly sorry, Takeuchi-sensei," she said, with as much sincerity as a stick. A very surprised stick. Her hand hovered over the lonely button, unsure of whether to move it to a less compromising position or to use her non-existent flexibility and somehow join it up…stick it in the hole.

_You could stick lots of things in a hole. _

If she could, Terumi would have hit herself.

The teacher (a chubby man who needed a shave) gave her _that_ stare. That cold stare that her mum always gave her when she was caught raiding the fridge and the cupboards before dinner, or when she said something socially inappropriate in public therefore making her and her family a public embarrassment.

It was a common occurrence, being a disappointment.

"Mikazuki. It's halfway through second period. You've been late three times this week, and I know that, even though I'm not your homeroom teacher," he drawled.

Yeah, THAT stare made her uncomfortable. Just a little bit.

He continued. "You are a repeat offender."

No. NO. He was _NOT_ going to continue and give her a detention, according to his normal speech pattern. She saw it happen to other unfortunates, but it will _not_ happen to her.

Detention equalled a call to her mother. Death awaited those that defied that beast.

Terumi blurted out the first reason that came to her mind. "It was an act of God."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. Destiny. Tragic thing at the train station." Time to roll with it.

The ball stopped rolling, but with a vicious mental kick she forced it to keep going again.

Her right hand joined her left hand behind her back like two best friends. The right best friend took the skin on the left best friend and bitch pinched her for kicks.

There was moisture coming into her eyes! Thank god for pain receptors!

A sniffle, and _voila_, tears threatened to spill. The waterworks trick always worked on male teachers (so did the awkward 'I have my period' trick), and she would milk the situation for all it was worth.

"…And, it was so sudden this morning…I was just-just standing there at the platform when suddenly _splat_ and blood everywhere and the train shot by," she scrunched up her face, fear in every movement as if recalling a nightmare. "Living after that was so hard."

To her amazement, the teacher _bought_ it. Kind of. Maybe.

"…Learning Japanese history helps me cope," she added for more effect. This teacher was a Japanese history teacher, so saying she liked the subject might help.

"Really." He stared down at her.

"Talking about it makes me stressed, Sensei."

The large man crossed his arms, not ruffled by her (fake) tears at all. He moved his gaze to something behind her.

"Kise, you've come back right in time. I need you to do something."

Terumi nearly died.

_Kise Ryouta_ was standing behind her. _Behind_ her, where she was desperately trying to cover up her wardrobe malfunction.

(hot pink undies)

She gulped. _He wouldn't notice, right?_

"What is it, Coach?" Kaijou's most popular boy responded.

"Escort Mikazuki to the school counsellor. Go and come back," droned Takeuchi Genta, Coach of Kaijou's well-known basketball team and Japanese History teacher.

Her feeble heart soared. Freedom! After ditching the super good-looking specimen of man standing behind her, she could have _freedom!_

Not that she wanted to ditch Kise Ryouta (oh _hell no_) but Terumi had priorities that, sadly, superseded her need to bask in the presence of beauty.

Like sleep. And freedom. And the half eaten tuna sandwich in her bag that was meant for lunch but was begging to be eaten with that_-_insert suggestive tone- _dishevelled appearance._

"E-excuse me, Sensei," she dramatically sniffed, as if torn at the thought of missing out on school. She walked backwards, carefully avoiding brushing against the male equivalent to a blonde bombshell.

She stopped her self from fleeing too fast.

What Takeuchi-sensei called out as she left sent foreboding shivers down her spine.

"I heard community service also helps with your problem!"

Tsk.

So he hadn't bought it, after all.

.

"Mikazuki-san? We're supposed to turn left just then for the school counsellor," the ever benevolent boy said.

Terumi looked at the floor darkly.

Ryouta grinned. She sensed that he sensed that she knew he knew what the real problem was and that he wasn't arriving to the point directly on purpose.

He held up Mr Button, who had fallen onto the floor.

"…Need a safety pin?"

"NO!"

* * *

That's it. That. Was. The. LAST. STRAW.

She couldn't show her face around Kise Ryouta again. Not that he'd remember her face, _oh no_ that wasn't what he would see whenever they would cross paths in the future, he would definitely recall her jerky waddle and hot pink underwear.

Definitely making sure that they would _never _cross paths again.

Oh yes, she was that insane girl who cried (fake, but he wouldn't know the truth) and whose skirt was falling off and needed psychological help. Great first impression.

Drats, she ruined whatever meagre chances she had with him. Actually, she had ruined her image in front of her classmates. Now they'll think she was insane, traumatised cry baby.

Whoops. _I promised Mum that I would be a good girl in high school. _

"Whatever," she mumbled. _If I had to categorise myself in a survey and the options were between 'Naughty' or 'Nice', I'd be _naughty.

That kind of survey would be terribly indecent.

She rolled over onto her belly, avoiding sunlight and embracing the shade underneath the school's water tank. Lounging on the roof was a sure fire way to skip classes for the rest of the day.

_Maybe I'll show my face after lunch, if I feel like it. _

"Playing hooky for the rest of the day?" Someone had silently opened the door and hovered near her with an air of authority.

Terumi blinked away the brightness, trying to see past the shadowed face.

"Ah. Takeuchi-sensei. Good morning."

He folded his arms. "It's already the end of the day."

She stared blankly, not computing the information.

"School ended ten minutes ago—_blahblahblah_." Nothing else was heard as Terumi shook herself out of her sluggish processing.

_Ten minutes ago? _

She'd missed the whole day already? Who said 'time flies when you're having fun', that statement was totally incorrect…she'd been bored out of her mind. And then she closed her eyes because there was a nice breeze…

Comforting blackness. A long nap.

So she'd slept through the day.

"…and that's why you'll be cleaning out the clubroom this afternoon," Takeuchi-sensei sounded triumphant.

Her blank eyes widened in realisation, and she stood up in a hurry to protest his unfair decision.

It took two words to shut her up for good.

"Fractional truancy."

Terumi trudged behind the victorious basketball coach. When would this bad luck end?

.

.

.

"You're the coach of a sport's club, Sensei?"

Genta puffed out his chest proudly as he walked her back to the 'clubroom', where all important game recordings and materials were. Her job was to arrange the 'important' things in the room in the correct order, and get rid of all the dust.

"That's right. Our team is one of the best high school teams in Japan!"

"That's really cool." She was genuinely surprised that her school had such a good team.

"I know we'll do well again this year at Inter-High…that's the main basketball competition for this summer," Genta mused aloud, mostly to himself. He stopped in front of an obscure room to slide open the door.

Basketball. _A bit of a disappointment._

"_Basktetball?_ Eeeeeeeh?" she grumbled rather loudly.

She liked SOCCER better, and she liked it so much the word had to be in capitals. She loved the end of a soccer match, when team basked in victory and the other accepted defeat graciously and everyone was happy.

Her favourite part was when the players threw off their shirts and did half-naked happy laps around the arena field. Happy laps were happy laps because they made her happy.

However, if anyone cared enough to ask her why she liked soccer, she would say that the scoring a goal in the last seconds of the game was inspirational.

(Soccer players were an inspiration in itself)

"That's a sport for sissies," she said to the bunch of unfamiliar faces in the room. A group of students were watching a basketball game via a data projector.

Not anymore, obviously, because everyone was looking at her. Some were shocked, one looked annoyed, one (handsome) guy seemed like he was analysing her from head to toe and estimating her three sizes and another (handsome) guy looked way too familiar with that beautifully constructed face.

She could never forget Kise Ryouta's face. It was memorable.

"Um…Sensei. I thought the room I'm cleaning would be you know…_empty_," she backed away, ready to run for her life.

Genta gave her a wry look as he stepped into the nest of vipers that could potentially strike her down and kill her by insulting their sport.

"Welcome to the basketball clubroom. These boys here…are our _sissy _regulars."

What was left of Terumi's image disintegrated into dust and floated away.

Far, far away.

* * *

**つづく**

* * *

**end notes**

_HI EVERYONE. So while my lovely readers await the complete revision and new chapters of Orange Days, I decided to put up a fun story. A humorous story with lots of dirty jokes, innuendos and embarrassing situations that will hopefully bring a smile to your face. _

_Much love,_

_**Tollpatsch**_


	2. Less space more talk

**Narcissus**

_by Tollpatsch_

* * *

"Welcome to the basketball clubroom. These boys here…are our _sissy _regulars."

Silence.

Sensing her impending doom, Terumi tried to call out her hidden ability: _Instant camouflage!_

Alas, it remained hidden and a disappointment. Though she could still mentally and spiritually become one with the furniture in the room. There was always that possibility.

Genta coughed to get her attention back. "Now, get one of those _sissies_ to explain the sorting process while I go get a coffee."

The door slid shut obnoxiously as that terrible man of a teacher abandoned her in enemy territory.

She vowed to fail her Japanese History exams on purpose to spite him.

Suddenly, a very energetic (sissy) student jumped up to his feet like his chair was on fire.

"We'(l)e not sissies!" he protested very loudly, based on the winces on everyone's faces.

"Don't _yell_, Hayakawa!" a stern looking guy reprimanded the loud complainer, who reminded her of her neighbour's excitable labra-doodle.

There was only one way to calm Pochi the labra-doodle.

Terumi held her hands up in an _I-surrender_ position, cautiously walking sideways (without the grace of the crab, which had mastered the sideways walk) towards a potted plant she could mentally merge with. It was very green.

And healthy, by how…_erect _it was.

"What are you talking about, my dear fellow?" she carefully raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course, basketball is a wonderful sport," she paused as she reverse parked herself in the space between the plant and a large shelf. It was…a tight fit.

"Lots of running balls and…bouncing players." Her slightly muffled voice addressed them all.

She couldn't help it. She had verbal dyslexia at the most inappropriate of times.

According to her ikemen radar, she sensed Ryouta try to cover up a small smile by coughing.

"I mean…running players and bouncing balls—no, lots of balls and boys…I—this is just making the whole thing a lot worse, so I'll just stop talking now." Terumi couldn't bear to see their reaction to her officially making herself an embarrassment of herself, so she stared at the bottom corner of the shelf she was pressing herself against.

Quiet murmuring from the other side, and basketball jargon was thrown around as Terumi remained very, very quiet and crammed herself in the small space even further to diminish her presence. It was gathering dust. And something was shoved between the wall and the back of the shelf.

(The real reason why their attention was taken away was because of a really good play made by some basketball guy on the screen, and that called for analysing-time.)

Just like how basketball players were attracted to basketball like bees and honey, Terumi was attracted to suspicious looking objects that might be interesting.

_It_ was gathering dust, that _something_ shoved between the wall and the back of the shelf.

_Closer_. Almost there!

She squinted, trying to decipher what the buried treasure could be. Money? Gold? Secret photos? Love letters?

Her hand reached for the object, snagging a corner with her fingers and bringing it up to her face. She tried not to sneeze from the dust mites attacking her poor face.

"Oh _my_," her tone of voice caught the attention of everyone in the room again.

"Oh…_wow_. This is-_gosh_-so shocking. Beyond shocking. I can't believe it."

They tried to see what she was looking at, but fern leaves obscured it.

"I mean, I _can_ believe it because I found this picture book here. Never mind."

A hand broke free of the foliage, and it was…!

…Horikita Mai! On a basketball court! Almost naked, save for those _basketballs._

There was also, a cheeky note in the corner in black marker: _Kaijou favourite. MWA!_

"That girl isn't wea(l)ring any c(r)othes!"

"Mikazuki-san! You shouldn't flip through stuff like that!" Ryouta waved his hands around, trying to stop her from across the room.

Mikazuki Terumi was not a woman that could be _stopped_. Once she started, she would not just STOP. She would keep going, no matter the consequence.

"It's okay. I have an older brother," she announced, as if it could excuse her from everything.

She would roll with it.

"The limited edition of Horikita Mai's court shots…it's—this is…" the other handsome guy pointed at the magazine in her hands.

…_Positively scandalous. _

As demonstrated by how the stern looking one flushed bright red and buried his face in his hands. He was strangely…not vocal.

Terumi grinned suggestively from her squished position between an indoor plant and a large shelf that housed sinful secrets. "I take everything back. You lot are very manly. True men."

"But, but that's not ours!" Moriyama objected.

Ryouta decided to add his two cents of deduction. "It must have been from the players that graduated already, definitely."

"I have neve(l) seen anything (r)ike this in my (r)ife!"

"…Seriously, Hayakawa?"

"Never, never in your…life?"

Their half-assed excuses fell on deaf ears as Terumi casually leafed through the picture book, wondering which the bare lady had: a Brazilian laser or waxing.

* * *

**Two: Less space more talk **

She had asked for the captain to explain to her the sorting process of the game recordings and books (minus certain picture books). However, the upperclassman introduced to her by the ever-helpful Kise-kun as Kasamatsu-senpai (Kise: _This is our captain!)_ seemed to be very fascinated by the carpet, because he feebly re-allocated the duties to his blonde spokesman as he searched for microscopic bacteria in the weaving.

Another upperclassman, a Moriyama-senpai (Kise: _But if it gets tough remembering everyone's names, it's okay just to call them 'senpai'_) volunteered enthusiastically but was brutally shot down by the captain.

'Kay then. So the stern Kasamatsu-senpai had a split personality. Terumi wasn't one to judge weird people.

_Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know which Turkish delight you'd get. _

(…hate Turkish delights)

"To start off, maybe you should…un-cram yourself? That looks really uncomfortable."

Oh, you thoughtful, angel-faced man.

She shuffled out awkwardly, like a penguin. Ryouta politely smiled, pretending he didn't see her trip over nothing and nearly plant her face onto the floor.

"Now, we put these pile of tapes with the green label in alphabetical order. And those recent ones with white labels in order of schools."

"Okay." That workload…she didn't want even go through them. There were_ so many._

Simultaneously and totally coincidentally to signal impending frustration (that's just Terumi, because the sexy hair thing was a modelling habit—a natural bonus to the shining _being _that was Kise Ryouta), both people ran a hand through their hair.

However, she didn't emit any enticing pheromones like Ryouta. Nor did the hair goddess bless her hair to be straight and silky. _Her_ boring brown hair curled up a little at the ends because of the stupid humidity. She also forgot to brush it this morning.

It must be the humidity.

Her hand got stuck at a tangled bit, and it took some effort to get it through.

_This isn't FAIR._

She cast an odd look at Ryouta, feeling like she lost a battle.

.

.

.

_Videos from last year until now: Rakuzan, Yousen, Shuutoku, Touou are in the top priority list and go…here._

She lined the DVDs with the red markings for 'most important consideration' in the neatest line ever seen in the history of lining up DVDs. Now, for the other schools in the area…

"Excuse me!" came a _very _loud whisper. It couldn't even be called a whisper, it stretched the limits of whispering and if Hayakawa-senpai was trying to whisper, wasn't he defeating the purpose of whispering in the first place?

Terumi shot him her stare of boredom. Screw vertical hierarchies, screw _R-E-S-PECT_! (She could hear Aretha Franklin belting out that English chorus if she had a continuous soundtrack to her train of thought)

_Like, how cool would it be to have music in the background to my super exciting life to make it even more dramatic. _

"What is the matter, senpai."

That Hayakawa dude pointed at her backside. Like, seriously directed his eyes to her wazoo.

That. Was. NOT. Cool.

"Why a(l)e you wea(l)ing a safety pin!" Hayakawa prattled.

Terumi bristled. That subject was still a raw wound!

Ryouta's stifled chuckling didn't help at all. Especially since his laughter sounded…really _nice_.

No, no, _focus_.

Turning around to face those heartless people with a face as pink as her undies, she directed her dirtiest glare at them, hissing out a reply.

"It's a new fashion fad. You see, I was going for the rough and tough look (the button fell off) and I ripped my skirt on the way to school because I was fighting evil (Takeuchi-sensei)."

She could see the world 'gullible' imprinted on Hayakawa's forehead. "F-fighting evil?"

Terumi looked meaningfully into the distance, as if recalling her deeds of heroism. "This safety pin was a token for my efforts by the elven folk (Kise Ryouta) that live in our lockers."

He really believed her: hook, line and sinker. Poor guy.

"(L)ea(r)(r)y? They (r)ive there?"

"Yes. The elves are the size of my middle finger. See?" She flipped him the bird.

(guilt rose up but she sealed it all up with self-satisfaction)

It was fully justified.

"…And _you_, that guy with the silky sparkling blonde hair that I'm _not_ jealous of—STOP. LAUGHING."

.

Most of the conversation between the sissy players went over her head. There was too much basketball jargon for Terumi to understand.

"So we should have Kasamatsu dribble to clear the wing."

"Yeah, Moriyama. You and Kobori can set up a screen under the basket—"

"So I'll just shoot once you pass it to me?"

"Don't cut me off, Kise!"

"Hehe, sorry senpai! Forgive me?" Ryouta winked at his captain, edging closer.

Kasamatsu could feel his disgust rising. "That's gross! Get away from me!"

_BAM._

"…that hurt, senpaaaai," he whined, nursing his shoulder dramatically. "My fans would cry if they saw me getting hit."

"Get. Used. To. It."

.

Coach was on a really long coffee break.

Ryouta had half the mind to organise a search and rescue team for the man, but Coach Takeuchi's coffee breaks were always really long, as he had observed in his first week in the club.

Their tactics discussion had ended, and dissipated into broken conversations between members.

Ryouta leaned back in his chair, exhaling. Actual practice was better than strategy meetings, because he didn't need to use the rusty parts of his brain, which corresponded to schoolwork.

He'd never be the brainy type. But that was okay with him, because he was good at all the things he was interested in.

Blowing at a lock of hair in his face, he relaxed.

"Maybe I should cut my hair off," he said to himself.

Moriyama offered his unnecessary input. "Good idea, Kise! Shave yourself bald so girls will avoid you and run into my arms!" He then proceeded to immerse himself into his own reality by hugging himself.

"Well, I wasn't thinking of going completely bald…summer is coming after all, and it's going to get really hot."

Ryouta noticed Kasamatsu reign in his temper, by the telltale twitch of his arm. Oh how he loved to poke fun at his captain.

"Senpai, do you think my fans will like my new hairstyle?"

"I don't care, go die!"

Ryouta grinned, knowing that it would rub Kasamatsu the wrong way and might punch him again. (The fact that he enjoyed it could mean that Ryouta had a slight masochistic streak that was yet to fully surface)

_Dum. DUMDUMDUMDUM-landslide-_

The sound of many books falling onto the ground was unexpected. Mikazuki slowly spun around to stare at him, her face horrified.

"Is there anything wrong, Mikazuki-san?"

"…Pardon my interruption and clumsiness, but I was just trying to control myself from crying once I imagined you bald."

She was a funny one. Ryouta reflexively had to check whether she was being serious, or sarcastic. And then either stop himself from laughing or feeling guilty for wanting to laugh at her.

Her permanent bed hair had become classic. Maybe if she had time to run a real brush through the brown shock of hair, she could look like everyone else. She had foam green eyes that were imitating a dead fish half the time, seeing how blank she was.

Mikazuki Terumi wasn't _ugly_. Just…perpetually scruffy. Yes, a little apathetic to her appearance at school, like she just rolled out of bed.

A little.

Also, a quirk of hers was that she was serious to the point of being an airhead. She had made a reputation for herself.

First day of school: she tripped over his desk and did this strange sliding thing, which messed up about six other desks. It looked like a mini tornado had ravaged the area. Then, there were the chemistry class shenanigans, which involved a really bad stench, Bunsen burners and failure to abide safety rules.

…And countless others to come, he predicted.

"So, Kise-kun please, do not cut your hair. I did a search on the Internet, and the majority vote was 'do not cut'. The net is very useful, especially Fuwa-fuwa, for all sorts of advice."

Just as he was about to reply, Moriyama perked up at the mention of—_something _that held his immense interest.

"Did you say…_Fuwa-fuwa_? Mikazuki, you consult the net too?"

"Yeah—I mean, sure I do senpai. I like visiting the friendship advice section, because I'm still not experienced enough for the love advice. It's an adult's world."

Ryouta: _LOL. _

It was hilarious, how she just admitted out loud, _so easily_ what a normal person would do secretly. By the look on her face, she didn't expect what she was saying either.

It was like a live comedy act, but the comedian didn't know they were doing a comedy act.

"ME TOO! Don't you love Rabu Samurai's articles?"

"What you read them too! I'm so glad that other people are interested in this stuff, now I'm not the only person now!"

He stayed quiet, eyes flickering between both people as they raved about some Internet thing that was lost on him. Ryouta was a highly perceptive person. He could literally see both Moriyama and Mikazuki's (skewed) wavelengths meet in the middle.

For example, pressing fast forward to this part of the conversation really showed their common ground.

"I haven't called a girl's name in two months!"

"Me too, I haven't called a boy's name that wasn't my brother's until high school!"

"My soul sister!"

"The brother I wished I had, you are my soul brother. I used to be a one man wolf pack, but now we are a two man wolf pack!"

"AWOOOOO!"

"WOOO-WOOOOOO!"

See? Both seriously needed a fast tracked course in social interaction.

"…I was in an all girls primary school and an all girls middle school. And then my idiot brother told my mum I was getting seriously weird and socially stunted, so she made me go for Kaijou instead of some ladies only school. Like, who _does_ that?"

_Your brother, obviously._ He would like to meet that guy someday, to see if Mikazuki was an example of a recessive gene resurfacing or whether it ran in the family.

…He was somehow getting a bit meaner. Must be the Kasamatsu influence.

"Ladies only sounds _nice_. A garden of flowering maidens!" Moriyama threw his hands up in a strange gesture of acceptance.

What Mikazuki said next caused another uncomfortable silence, even making the rest break out of their strategy talk/analysis to stare.

"Not all of them were maidens, senpai." Terumi scratched her head in thought. "If it were a garden, there would be a few flowers, lots of weeds and some wilted flowers past their used-by date—"

"_Okay_, Mikazuki-san!" Ryouta skilfully interrupted, trying to help. "Do you need any help sorting out the stuff here?"

She seemed to unknowing sidestep his emergency aid.

"I finished an hour ago. I just didn't know if I should leave or not."

Five pairs of eyes were trained on her.

Ryouta retreated. "Oh. Okay."

For the first time in his life, he didn't have anything to say.

.

"I'm back, everyone."

Sullen looks from everyone.

Terumi scowled. "Can I go _now_?"

Takeuchi Genta scowled back.

"No."

This was worse than detention.

.

.

.

1 NEW MESSAGE:

_Ya-hello!_

_Riko-tan wants Terumin to tell Kaijou's basketball coach that Tora's darling daughter wants a practice game, because he's not answering the cute and wonderful Riko-tan's calls!_

_If you don't tell him, I'll _Boston Crab_ you._

_Teehee!_

* * *

**つづく**

* * *

**end notes**

_And Terumi finds herself a soul brother._

_I laugh to myself as I type. It gets creepy, because I'm laughing at my own jokes. The other reason is because I listen to hilarious songs such as Valentine Kiss (Gintama seiyuu and Hyuuga/Aomine) and Renai Circulation (sung by our favourite Izaya). _

_Thank you for all your thoughts! I am looking forward to Terumi's failures and her interaction with Kise. I just need to keep creating situations where they'd meet and get to know each other better. Now, please enjoy!_

_Much Love,_

_**Tollpatsch**_


End file.
